


Your love has only grown stronger

by salvatorestjohn



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Awkwardness, Established Scott McCall/Stiles Stilinski, Family Dinners, Fluff, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, McCall Family Feels, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Scott McCall/Stiles Stilinski Feels, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 23:06:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18353585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salvatorestjohn/pseuds/salvatorestjohn
Summary: "I know," Scott says, his smile widening. He steps closer, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth. "But in an hour or so, he'll be gone, and we have all night to ourselves. I'm sure we can make up for a lost hour and remind us both how much we love each other."Stiles sucks in a deep breath, nodding a little too quickly, his eyes widening a tiny bit. "That's a plan. I like that plan a lot. Okay, I'm good, let's go have dinner with your parents."





	Your love has only grown stronger

The sky's darkening by the time that Scott reaches his porch, despite having left the ice rink earlier than any of the others did, which he knows considering the text he got from Lydia a few minutes ago saying that they were all finally heading home. He blames it on Stiles' insistence on detours; one to the park just a couple blocks away somehow ended up with them traipsing through a small area of woods. Thankfully not the preserve. 

All worth it, of course. He stops just before the front door, turning his back to it. Stiles, who still has an arm hooked through his, having jokingly linked them at some point in the woods, stops as well.

He stands in front of him, that smile never fading from his lips. Scott can't say his does either. In fact, he's not sure there's been one moment of the entire night where he hasn't been smiling even a little. Lydia's idea of a fun Saturday night for them all was definitely a good one. 

"So," Stiles starts, taking the tiniest step closer, "is this the part where I kiss you goodnight on your porch like we're characters from a really cheesy teen rom-com?" 

His teeth sink into his bottom lip, his eyebrows raising a second later as he tilts his head like he doesn't already how this goes. It's not like they haven't already done it what feels like a million times in the last few months. 

Scott rolls his eyes, his smile brightening. "No, it's the part where we go inside and you stay the night. Unless..." he's the one raising his eyebrows now, half-teasing him, "...you've changed your mind?"

Stiles pretty much scoffs at that as he slips his arm out of the loop he's created. "Absolutely not."

He brings his hand up, settling on the back of Scott's neck, his fingers moving into the bottom of his hair. Scott tries to bite back his smile now but fails as he drags his tongue across his lower lip. Stiles doesn't even pretend not to watch his every move, not like he used to. 

"I just thought it seemed romantic," Stiles continues, and Scott's very much aware of how he's slowly inching forward, the corners of his mouth quirking up ever so slightly more. "Just the two of us, nothing else but the stars. You can't say that doesn't sound like one of those super cheesy moments in the movies."

"It does," Scott agrees, nodding along. He tilts his head, one of his own hands now moving up to Stiles' neck as he leans in a little closer. "But you know you don't need an excuse to kiss me, right? That's sort of the point of being in a relationship."

Stiles rolls his eyes and sighs in that exaggerated way that Scott can't help but find amusing.

"Fine, suck the fun out of it then," he says. "So much for romance."

Then he closes the remaining gap between them, their lips meeting for not the first time tonight. Scott happily leans into it, successfully managing not to break it with the smile he can feel trying to creep back up. He pulls Stiles in closer with the hand on the side of his neck, getting a hum in response and Stiles pressing forward a little more. 

It's slow and soft, and sends that spark of joy and contentment through him as Scott kisses back. 

He's aware of Stiles walking him backwards, towards the front door. In the back of his mind, Scott has to try and recall if his mom's home yet or if she's still at the hospital. He's pretty sure they're okay as he reaches behind him for the door handle. 

Finding it, he pushes down and opens the door. They continue back into the house, Stiles' mouth now curving up into a smile against his. It sets Scott off as well, like an instant reaction, his own lips tugging up despite his efforts as Stiles manages to close the door without even turning.

Deciding just to give in, he breaks the kiss only to press another but quicker one to Stiles' lips. 

He then goes to pull away, but Stiles holds him in place, chasing after him and pulling him right back in. Scott wants to roll his eyes but he really isn't complaining. Especially not when Stiles moves his hands down from his neck, slipping to his waist, tugging him in gently as he—

"Scott? You home?"

The sound of his dad's voice calling out from somewhere in the house has them breaking apart. Quite quickly, too.

Scott tries to compose himself, the panic settling in as he glances at Stiles, catching his eyes for just a second. Stiles wipes a hand over his mouth, then covers it as he obviously bites at his nail. They barely have a second to at least act calm before his mom's appearing in the doorway to the living room. 

Her eyes are slightly wide as she glances between them, clearly picking up on the rather obvious two feet of space now between them. She gives a half-roll of her head and a helpless gesture of her hands as if in apology. 

"I didn't know he was coming over," she quietly explains. "He just—"

She cuts herself off as his dad decides to join them. He stops at her side, a bright smile on his face as he looks at her. Then his eyes are sliding over to Scott, and of course, Stiles. The surprise is clear on his face but his smile doesn't waver. 

"Dad," Scott says, raising his eyebrows as his dad turns his eyes back on him. "I thought... you weren't supposed to be back until tomorrow. We're supposed to be having dinner next week, remember?" 

His dad gives a half-shrug, and says, "I know, but I thought it would be nice to surprise you. I have been away for three weeks, after all. It seemed a shame to wait another week to catch up."

Scott's at a loss for how to respond. He's not exactly unhappy about his dad showing up earlier than planned, but Stiles is still standing right next to him, and he's supposed to be staying for dinner and the night. His dad may be all smiles and warm greetings towards him right now, but they're all aware of the lingering tension between them. 

The thought of how much worse that could get if he knew about them has Scott really wishing that San Francisco was further away.

He risks a glance at Stiles out of the corner of his eye as he opens his mouth to try and think of something that might save them from this. His mind's a complete blank. Stiles' growing anxiety and unease doesn't exactly help. 

"I get that," he says, looking at his dad, "but, uh... it's just, we sort of—"

"Dinner's already on," his dad cuts in, pointing a thumb over his shoulder as if that's Scott's main concern right now. "It won't be long, and it's not a big meal, I promise. So, if you've already eaten, don't worry. The chances of me making anything even remotely filling went out the window when I started relying on a microwave for all of my meals."

He laughs, and Scott doesn't know what to do other than join in, chuckling as he wants nothing more than to just leave the situation entirely. Of course this would happen. It's just his luck. 

"This sounds like a family thing," Stiles says now, gesturing a hand vaguely, "so, you know, I should just..."

He goes to back up, catching Scott's eyes as they widen slightly. The helpless, almost apologetic little head tilt he gives has Scott's heart sinking somewhere into a pit in his stomach, but he can't blame him. He gets why.

Still, he moves to step towards him and argue. He's not going to sit through an entire dinner only to make Stiles sneak in through his window later on. He doesn't exactly get much of a choice in the matter though. 

"No, stay," his dad says before Stiles can get more than two steps back. "I think I might have made too much, to be honest. And, besides," he shrugs, smiling at him, "you're basically family, right?"

Scott's eyes widen even further if possible, his heart jumping a beat or two. His mind quickly tells him that's not what his dad means — it can't be, he doesn't know. 

That doesn't stop Stiles from being frozen to the spot, fumbling and faltering, his mouth opening and closing as he just blinks at him, clearly trying to form a coherent sentence to respond with. 

His dad just grins, laughing again. He seems to take his reaction as surprise at his change of heart after all these years, and Scott thinks that maybe that's partially true. It does throw him a little to hear his dad actually inviting Stiles to stay for dinner rather than trying to find a reason for why he shouldn't. 

"Really?" Stiles asks, almost like he was hoping he heard him wrong. "You... you sure?"

His dad just nods, waving any possibility of an argument off. "I'll just go set up another plate. And make sure I don't burn down the kitchen."

"Yeah, that would be greatly appreciated," his mom says, nodding, her arms crossed. 

He disappears, presumably heading back into the kitchen. She moves to follow, obviously deciding it's probably not such a great idea to leave him in the kitchen alone. Before she moves out of sight, she throws the two of them one more glance, her eyebrows raising slightly. The look is one Scott's all too familiar with and says they need to figure this out. And fast. 

As soon as they're both out of sight, Stiles is right next to Scott, a hand on his arm. He pulls him back just enough to not be visible from the kitchen door, just in case. Then he turns to him, getting him to face him as well. The panic he was suppressing just seconds ago now spreads across his face, seeping into every feature as he leans in to lower his voice.

"I can't do this," he says, lowering his voice before Scott can get one word out. "Scott, I love you, okay? But sitting through dinner with your dad? No. No chance. He's being nice to me now because of everything happening, but when he finds out we're dating, I'm doomed. And I wouldn't have cared before but you two are on better terms now, and he's trying, and I don't wanna be the reason that all gets complicated again."

Scott shakes his head, his eyebrows drawing together. "You're not a complication. Things are better now with him, yeah, but if he can't accept that I love you, then that's his problem. Nothing is going to change my feelings for you, Stiles."

Stiles sighs, and says, "okay, I get that, but... I just don't think I can do this tonight. It's all so sudden, and I know everyone else knows about us, but telling your dad is a lot bigger than telling mine or your mom, both of whom practically told us for us."

"Then we won't tell him tonight," Scott says, shrugging. His voice softens, his head tilting. "It's just one dinner. We've done it before."

"Yeah, before we were _together_ ," Stiles points out, emphasizing his point. "Scott, you're aware that your dad's an FBI agent, right? His profession is to literally be able to figure things out, especially when people are lying. Alright? I cannot lie to him, and we both know it. This will not end well, I'm telling you."

"Stiles, he's not gonna figure it out," Scott says, trying to assure him. That's a little hard to do when a part of him doubts his own words as well. "We'll just... have dinner, talk a little, then he'll leave and we'll have the rest of the night together."

Stiles still doesn't seem at all convinced. He shakes his head, his tongue darting out across his bottom lip. A touch of hesitation slips through, into his features, his voice.

"I don't know if I can," he says. "Your dad used to hate me, remember? Lying to him doesn't exactly seem like a good way to keep that in the past tense, and if this is all an act, then all it's gonna take is one wrong look from him and I'll be recounting every date we've ever had. I feel like I'm about to walk into an interrogation."

"I'm pretty sure that's how most people feel when they're about to have dinner with their partner's family," Scott says, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

Stiles just blows out a puff of air and turns his head away. Scott's smile fades, watching his eyes go to the entrance of the living room as his teeth sink into his bottom lip. His throat moves as he swallows, obviously thinking it all over. 

Scott's head tilts and he takes a second. He can sense his emotions like always, a warm sort of wave coming from where his hand's still wrapped around the crook of Scott's elbow, sinking into his skin. His stomach twists a little, but he gets it. He's got that same worry settled in the pit of his stomach, and in his chest, wrapping around his lungs. 

"Hey," he says, trying to get bring his attention back.

Scott brings his hand back up, settling on the side of Stiles' neck. He gently turns his head back around to meet his eyes.

"It's gonna be fine. It'll be an hour, maybe two at most. Things are different now."

"Are they?" Stiles asks right away, but it's more rhetorical than anything else, his words tinged with a sort of sadness. "Scott, your dad hated me even touching you when we were kids. Not to mention all the times he tried to stop us from seeing each other just because he saw us holding hands, or — what about that time I kissed you when I was trying to get you to admit something? We were _seven_ , Scott, and he was practically ready to get a restraining order."

Scott swallows down the lump that's risen in his throat. He hadn't necessarily forgotten, just pushed all of it to the back of his mind. The reminder of it all still doesn't feel that great. His own words are still true though, and he knows it. 

Shaking his head, he strokes his thumb along Stiles' jaw. "This will be different. You know he's not drinking anymore, and like I said, we won't tell him tonight, alright? We'll wait, he won't figure anything out, and we'll have a nice night. Okay?"

There's still that look in Stiles' eyes, uncertain. Scott leans in, kissing him gently. He continues the slow strokes with his thumb until he pulls back again, but only enough to hold his gaze. 

"Just trust me," he says softly, giving a small nod. "Stay. Please. I'll be right beside you the entire time."

Stiles doesn't say anything right away. He just looks back at him for a second or two, and Scott can tell he's weighing the possibilities of how the night will turn out. 

Barely a moment later and he sighs, rolling his eyes. Scott can take a good guess at what his decision is. 

"I'm only doing this because I love you," Stiles says, confirming his staying. He points a finger at him, poking it into his chest. "But you better not leave me alone with him. Like, not even for a second, alright? Because I will panic, and I can guarantee that it won't end well for anyone. Although, I have to say, pretending not to be totally in love with you sucks. I already have thirteen-years of experience to back that up."

"I know," Scott says, his smile widening. He steps closer, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth. "But in an hour or so, he'll be gone, and we have all night to ourselves. I'm sure we can make up for a lost hour and remind us both how much we love each other."

Stiles sucks in a deep breath, nodding a little too quickly, his eyes widening a tiny bit. "That's a plan. I like that plan a lot. Okay, I'm good, let's go have dinner with your parents."

Scott grins. He quickly leans in a last time, pressing a kiss to his lips before pulling himself away entirely, dropping his hands back to his sides. Stiles makes his displeasure at that clear with a noise in the back of his throat.

"You can't just do that and expect me not to want to kiss you back," he complains, Scott already moving away and back towards the living room. Still, he follows.

Scott will admit, a part of him does hesitate for a split second when his dad comes back out of the kitchen. It's not like he doesn't have doubts of his own, after all, but his own words echo in his head. His dad isn't going to find out tonight. He can relax. 

That's exactly what he does as his dad wrings his hands between a towel. He shoots them both another bright grin.

"Looks like you two were just in time," his dad says as he gestures his head over his shoulder. "Dinner's ready."

He turns and heads back into the kitchen, leaving them to follow. Scott can't help but glance at Stiles, catching his eye. Stiles just rolls his head in a way that says, _let's do this then, I guess_ , and takes in a deep breath.

Scott shoots him one last reassuring smile as he takes his hand for a second. It's barely a brush of his fingers over his palm, his thumb sweeping over his knuckles, but it does the trick. Stiles smiles back at him, a little lopsided, but ready, at least. Maybe even with a spark of his usual mischief, which doesn't worry Scott in the slightest. 

Then Scott drops his hand and moves toward the kitchen, Stiles following as he joins his mom at the table. His eyes dart over to his dad, his back turned to them as he presumably plates the food. 

When he turns his attention back on his mom, his hands moving to the top of the chair in front of him to pull it out, there's a question there. It's silent but obvious to him.

He just gives a one-shouldered shrug in response. Even he's uncertain of what exactly his answer is, but either way, she seems to understand it. 

The corners of her mouth quirk up, her eyes sliding over to Stiles for a split second. Then she lets it drop, and Scott's beginning to get the feeling that the next hour or so is going to take its time in passing.

Stiles has already pulled out the chair next to him and sitting down, now looking up at him with raised eyebrows. Scott quickly brushes it all off and instead of doing the same, moves over to help his dad. 

He smiles at him in thanks and turns, taking two of the plates back to the table. Scott grabs the other two, doing the same.

"So," his dad starts as he sits and Scott moves back around the table, taking his seat next to Stiles, "how have things been? I feel like I've been away for months, I need all the details."

"It was only three weeks," Scott reminds with a slight grin, picking up his fork. He shrugs. "Not much has changed. No new supernatural problems, which is pretty surprising, actually."

His dad chuckles at that, and Scott ducks his head. Maybe he was right in saying this won't be so bad.

"Well, we haven't exactly had the chance to have a proper conversation," his dad says. A small, almost sad smile spreads across his face. "There's still a lot I need to catch up on from the past eight years. And we have time now, so. I wanna know everything."

Scott pauses, his heart jumping a beat and sending the entire rhythm off. He ignores it, risking a glance at Stiles. It's pretty obvious by the look he sends him, and especially by the conversation they had not five minutes ago, that they're in agreement of just how much of everything they're willing to share.

He hesitates, his eyes moving back to his dad, staring at him expectantly as he twists a few loose noodles around his fork. His mind tries to find a good place to start at, but only a few things stay lodged firmly at the front, just waiting to be blurted out. 

"How did that test go?" his mom jumps in, talking to both him and Stiles. "It was this week, right?"

Scott nearly slumps with relief at the save. He hopes the look he sends her conveys just how grateful he is right now. Judging by the small, discreet smile she sends his way, she does. 

"You had a test?" his dad asks, his attention obviously captured. The twisting in Scott's stomach eases a little. 

"Uh, yeah," he says, nodding, and glances at Stiles. "It was on Friday, I think. I was stressing all week, that's for sure."

"Oh yeah, it was definitely Friday," Stiles agrees, pausing with his fork up, halfway to his mouth. "I know that because Coach absolutely hates us and has a habit of giving us tests right after lunch, so about a good seventy percent of the class tends to skip eating completely due to nerves. I'm not one of them, obviously, but at least five people always get up and have to leave because they feel sick."

Scott makes a face, remembering just how badly that class went. He at least got through it without problems, but the same definitely can't be said for Sydney and at least two other people. It wasn't good for anyone.

"Yeah, it was pretty bad," he says. "But I think I did alright on the actual test. We won't know until Monday, and even then, Coach is probably gonna make us wait until after practice to find out. Apparently he thinks that not knowing will somehow make us try harder on the field?"

His dad raises his eyebrows, then gives a slight laugh, picking up another forkful of noodles.

"I'm not surprised. Finstock's always been... passionate, about his job."

"I think the words you're looking for are intense, terrifying, and absolutely insane," Stiles says.

They all laugh at that, agreeing. Especially his mom and dad; they start reminding each other of things he used to do when they were younger and went to school with them.

Scott catches the smile that tugs at Stiles' mouth when he glances down at his plate. A knot that had formed in his stomach loosens a little. There's less tension in the air, less doubt and anxiety, replaced by a hint of something comfortable and calming.

Stiles meets his eyes. His smile grows and Scott returns it with a curve of his lips, small and subtle. Like a secret of sorts, passed between the two of them. 

Then Stiles turns away, obviously trying to suppress his smile enough to not be obvious. Scott bites the inside of his cheek and does the same. He turns his attention back to his parents just as they dive into another subject.

Seeing Stiles and his dad getting along is definitely a reassurance. Completely weird, but a good sign. 

For the next twenty minutes or so, it stays that way. They talk about things. Catch up, just like his dad wanted. 

His dad asks more about school, finally finding out what happened to Harris since he hasn't seen him around, and some more details about the ins and outs of the pack and the basics of the supernatural that he doesn't quite know about yet.

There are a brief few moments where his mom and dad talk about work, or reminisce because of something that either Scott or Stiles mentioned that happened to remind them of something else.

It's calm, and there's a thin layer of contentment in the air. It's comfortable.

More comfortable than Scott even thought possible as he finds himself laughing along with both of his parents and Stiles, his best friend and, more recently, boyfriend. It's like the entire thing is too good to be true. A fantasy, something he would have dreamed of as a kid when his entire life was fractured and seemed like nothing could put it back together.

It's real though. It almost feels like Stiles is trying to remind him of that when he bumps his leg into his underneath the table. It's subtle enough that for a split second, Scott thinks it's an accident and ignores it, keeping his attention on the conversation his mom and dad are having about how much Beacon Hills has changed since they were in High School. 

He's tempted to make a comment about how they probably had a few werewolves of their own in their classes, just that they were unaware at the time. Stiles' hand brushes up against his own, resting on his leg, and his mouth stays closed. 

He does his best to look down at them without making it obvious, a small crease between his brows. Questioning, his eyes flick up to Stiles' face for a second or two. Stiles barely glances at him in response, keeping his eyes on his mom and dad as they talk, avoiding any suspicion. 

It clicks when he slips his hand over Scott's, his fingers dipping below his palm before moving up, lacing between his. The warmth comes off his skin in the familiar wave, sinking into his own as it sends that signal to his senses.

He hadn't really gotten stuck on what his dad said about how the people who were together back then couldn't be further apart now, or how the supernatural seems to have inadvertently gotten in between everyone in the town. As if it's almost impossible to have a relationship that won't ultimately be destroyed by the supernatural world.

Scott gives his hand a gentle squeeze and readjusts their position to make it more comfortable on the both of them. He catches the way Stiles seems to relax a little. Not by much, but enough. 

"I wouldn't say that every relationship is doomed just because they know about, or are involved in this world," his mom says like the thought is ridiculous. "Sometimes things don't work out, but a lot of the time they do. You can't blame it on the supernatural when they don't, and I don't think it's fair to say that no one can be happy just because they know a few things more than the rest of the town."

Scott smiles a little at that, and his mom's eyes dart to him. It's obvious why she's saying it, though he gets the feeling it's sincere, and not just for his and Stiles' benefit. 

"No, of course not," his dad says, shaking his head, "I didn't mean it like that. Just that, I imagine it would be harder to make things works." He waves a hand in Scott's direction, looking at him now with raised eyebrows. "Right?"

Scott stills for all of three seconds, his heart jumping a few beats as he thinks over the question in his head. He's pretty sure his eyes widen at least a little as his lips part, and he avoids the urge to glance over at Stiles. 

"I mean," he shrugs with one shoulder, "I guess."

Stiles' hand goes completely still underneath his compared to just a few seconds ago, when he had been stroking his thumb over the back of Scott's hand. His pulse jumps as well, and Scott knows what he's thinking. 

"But it's not impossible," he quickly adds, finishing the rest of his original thought. His dad stares at him, eyebrows lowering now as Scott shakes his head. "It makes it harder, what with the constant danger, and the worrying about them getting hurt because of you, but... it also makes being a part of it better in a way. It's easier when there's someone who gets it and understands in a way that no one else really can."

His words hang in the air over the silence that falls over them for a good few seconds. His dad nods slowly as if agreeing while his mom smiles, that hint of pride slipping through. Scott isn't sure if it's a good idea or not, but he glances at Stiles anyway. It's worth it when he realizes Stiles is already staring at him.

He watches his eyes soften, chewing on his bottom lip. It's obvious to Scott how much he wants to say something, probably right on the tip of his tongue, waiting to be spilled out. 

He doesn't, but instead, squeezes Scott's hand gently, his mouth curving up. Scott runs his thumb over Stiles' as he returns it.

"I'm glad you feel that way about it," his dad says, and the words are sincere. "It's good that you found that. It's not easy, like you said."

He gives a slight laugh at that, glancing at Scott's mom, then him and Stiles before turning his eyes back on his plate as he picks up another forkful of his noodles.

"I'm just glad you two have each other through all this."

Scott freezes. It almost feels literal, too. His skin goes icy cold, and he's always thought it was an exaggeration when people say their blood runs cold, but in the split second before he starts burning up, he gets it. His heart even hits against his ribcage with how fast it rushes to catch up with the few beats it misses.

"What?" he asks, unable to help himself, ignoring the part of his brain that's sending warning signals for him to shut up, that's not what he meant. "What do you mean?"

He doesn't even have to look at Stiles to sense his panic, just as strong as his own if not more. His pulse jumping underneath Scott's hand and the way his grip tightens ever so slightly would be enough on its own.

His dad lifts his eyes back up to look at him, then they slide to Stiles for just a second too long. He pauses, gesturing his fork slightly as the corners of his mouth tug up.

"The two of you," he says as if it's obvious. "It's good that you've got each other. That feeling isn't easy to find with someone, but it's great that you found it with each other. With everything you've both been through, it makes sense."

That part of Scott's brain goes silent now. He's aware of Stiles quickly slipping his hand away and back into his lap, as if that's somehow what tipped him off. Maybe it is, Scott really doesn't know, can't even think properly right now.

"Wait, you—" Stiles cuts himself short, his mouth opening and closing. He doesn't seem to be able to find the words he's looking for but that certainly doesn't stop him. "Hold on a second, you, uh — you think that...? That we're...?" 

He points vaguely with his index finger between himself and Scott as he trails off. 

Scott doesn't even know how to react other than by staring at his dad, eyes slightly wide as he tries to process what exactly is happening right now. His stomach tying itself up in knots isn't really helping. 

"You thought I didn't know?" his dad asks with a slight laugh of disbelief. He barely glances up from his plate, not noticing the looks on their faces. "I didn't get into the FBI for nothing, you know. And, besides, it's been obvious since you were kids. I'd have to be... I don't know, dead, not to know that you two are together, and even then, I saw it coming."

The room falls silent yet again. It's different this time though. Tense. Confused. A little panicked. At least on Scott and Stiles' part anyway.

Stiles sucks in a breath as Scott's eyebrows furrow. He glances over at his mom, and the look on her face isn't exactly one of surprise. 

She meets his eyes, biting her lip. There's a silent question somewhere in there, the worry pronounced in her features. 

Scott doesn't answer it; mainly because he doesn't know how. 

His dad stops now, obviously realizing something isn't right. He lifts his eyes back up to them once more, lingering for a second or two as his confusion slips through. It doesn't last long though as he glances at his mom, and the realization seems to set in when he looks back over at them.

"I'm getting the feeling that I wasn't supposed to know that," he says, his words slow and careful.

"Those are good instincts, I see why the FBI likes you so much," Stiles says, nodding, his voice betraying his calm act. 

His dad looks over at him and Scott pauses, his stomach flipping.

The look isn't the one he'd been expecting. Despite everything he said to Stiles, a part of him still worried; his dad's changed a lot since he was nine, but the thought that maybe this would be one thing he couldn't get past stuck in his head, making him doubt himself. 

He swallows, wetting his lips, then nods as well. "You're right. About us being together."

His heart jumps into his throat as soon as the words leave his mouth. There was no point in trying to deny it though. He wouldn't want to anyway. It's Stiles, he can't lie about his feelings for him, and he would never ask him to do it either.

He glances at him and Stiles shoots him the tiniest smile, barely a quirk of his lips but enough for Scott to understand the silent message beneath it. His hand slips back between them and into Scott's once more. Their fingers lace together and Stiles gives his hand a gentle squeeze. An assurance that he's there, despite how nervous he is himself right now.

Scott then turns his eyes back on his dad. There's not even a trace of what he thought would be staring at him. Nothing in his expression has changed, not even a flicker in his eyes of something that would make Scott realize he was wrong. It's just the same caring, gentle look, but touched with a hint of sadness now.

"Look, I..." he glances down at his plate, shaking his head as he takes a second. Then he sighs and looks back up at the two of them. "I know things were different when you were kids. I get why you wouldn't tell me about the two of you being together now, and... I'm really sorry for that."

He looks Scott in the eyes now, holding them, wanting to make sure he's really hearing him,

"I should never have made you feel that way. I'm happy for you."

There's a sincerity, pronounced by the slowness to his words. It has Scott's stomach clenching and him biting at the inside of his cheek to try and stop the burning at the backs of his eyes. Blinking a few times, he inhales. Then he nods, smiling at his dad. 

He smiles back, the relief obvious on his face. Then he's adding, "even if I did already know. I could tell the second I came back into town four months ago."

His joking tone at the last part seems to be what does it. The tension gets sucked out of the room and Scott's chest loosens as he laughs, the rest of them joining in. The warmth from Stiles' hand eases, replaced by the familiar, comforting tingle, and a smile settles on his face. 

"Yeah, about that." Stiles' eyes narrow. "How did you already know?"

"Neither of you are exactly subtle," his mom says, almost pointedly, raising her eyebrows at the two of them with a smile of her own. "You've made it pretty obvious since you were kids."

"We all knew it was probably gonna happen eventually," his dad jumps in as well, grinning. "It was just a matter of when. Plus, I sort of saw the two of you on the porch before you came in."

Scott's eyes widen while Stiles falters, his skin quickly taking on a light shade of red. Then he's quickly brushing it off as best he can and focusing more on the first part. Scott takes a second, his face hot, and just listens as Stiles goes on to argue that he was the most subtle about his feelings, as was Scott, considering that it took twelve years for them to figure it out. 

His mom and dad strongly disagree, and Scott can only smile, shaking his head, before jumping in to agree with Stiles. 

It only lasts a few minutes before his parents win out on the basis that they used to pretend they were on dates while on trips out to the park or the beach, or anywhere, really. The subject gets shifted. 

It's more relaxed after that, Stiles freely joking about things that Scott knew he wouldn't have had they kept it a secret. Scott doesn't think he stops smiling once throughout the rest of the night, a bubble of happiness settling in his stomach and spreading a familiar warmth through him.

It's almost surreal, watching his mom, Stiles, and his dad talking away, joking and laughing. He can safely say that things really have changed. Definitely for the better. 

Once dinner's over, and his dad says goodnight before heading out, Scott and Stiles head upstairs. Even though they didn't have to spend two hours pretending they aren't together, they're still insistent on making good on the agreement they had about reminding the other how in love with them they are.

It ends with him and Stiles under the covers in his bed, soft kisses and words alike pressed into each other's skin every now and then, mixed in with the odd quiet laugh and teasing joke about something or other. It's like the perfect end to a confusing, but good, night and Scott couldn't be happier.


End file.
